


After Battle

by Thuviel



Series: Faron Lavellan [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 14:59:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11876961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thuviel/pseuds/Thuviel
Summary: The Inquisitor's party has just finished a tough fight and they're all exhausted. Lavellan got hurt and Dorian gets worried about him.





	After Battle

**Author's Note:**

> The first oneshot of what will probably be a series of works about Faron's life as the Inquisitor, and about his relashionship with Dorian c:

With a final grunt of pain, the last bandit fell and remained motionless on the ground. Faron yanked out his daggers from the body, then sunk down on one knee, arm wrapping around his abdomen. That last, desperate attack from the bandit had left a deep slash right under his ribcage, and Faron could feel the wound pulsating with a sharp pain.

“That was the last of them.” Varric shifted his grip on Bianca to a more relaxed position. “Next time you have the brilliant idea to take down an entire bandit camp on a whim, at least scout ahead first.”

“And ruin the surprise?” Faron’s voice was strained, even though he smiled. Varric shook his head in resignation, but his lips curved up into a smile of his own. He put the crossbow on his back and started gathering up any undamaged bolts.

Faron attempted to get up again but his legs gave out and sent him right back on his knees, a grunt escaping him in the process. Varric looked up at him and was about to open his mouth to say something, but another voice beat him to it.

“You’re hurt? Let me see!” Dorian was by Faron’s side in a few hurried strides, although he wasn’t exactly bursting with energy after that strenuous battle. He knelt down by Faron, gently removing the Inquisitor’s arm to examine the wound.

“Vishante kaffas! Could you at least try to avoid their swords?” the mage swore, but his voice was tinged with worry. His eyebrows knit together in concentration, and soon his hand started to glow with a faint blue light.

“What can I say? His blade was longer, and this time the longer blade hit home before my shorter ones hit hi- ah!” Faron gasped as the familiar, cold healing magic spread through his wound. He would never get used that feeling, it seemed. The cut went deep and sweat started dripping from Dorian’s face, but his expression remained determined as he mended the broken skin. If he could close the wound it wouldn’t bleed out at least, but time and proper care would be needed to heal it properly.

“Hey, you alright, boss?” Iron Bull, covered from head to toe in dirt and blood, approached them from among the tents, leaving a scattered pile of at least five dead bandits behind him. There was no telling if any of the blood was his own, but Faron noticed the slight limp to his left side.

“I’ll be fine, Bull. Once Dorian stops fussing over me that is.” The mage groaned, and Bull let out a hearty chuckle. “And you? Any harm?”

“Minor scratches, nothing serious,” the qunari shrugged.

Faron nodded. “Why don’t you and Varric search the area, I’d rather not bump into any more surprises.”

“Will do, boss.” Iron Bull and Varric disappeared among the tents. Well, as much as a towering qunari can disappear, anyway.

Dorian finished healing the wound and Faron let out a sigh of relief. It still hurt, but not nearly as much. He rolled his shoulders and stretched his back, slightly wincing as a few other wounds and scratches made themselves known. Dorian tried to shake off the weariness from the healing spell and continued to examine him. A trail of blood had started to form from a gash on Faron’s upper arm. The mage sighed and started to prepare another spell.

Faron’s gaze swept over Dorian. The man looked exhausted. Which was no wonder, considering the impressive lightning bolts that had rained down on the bandit camp earlier, not to mention the protective barriers that he constantly tried to keep up around the team. And then the healing spell on top of that. He looked like he could barely keep himself upright.

Faron placed a hand on the mage’s shoulder. “Leave it.”

“Leave it!? Your arm is cut deep, we’re miles away from Skyhold and you- “

“Oh, I’m sure Scout Harding has a poultice or two back at camp. I’ll survive.”

Dorian looked like he was about to start protesting again, but Faron cut in before the mage could get in another word.

“Save your strength, ma’nehn.”

That gave Dorian pause, and he let his gaze drop. Faron smiled and gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. They remained like that for a moment, before Dorian met the elf’s eyes again and returned a weary smile.

 


End file.
